where the writers are

listening | listening

patricia-struntz's picture
Jul.25.2010
As she spoke to me her words came to my ears as familiar, the very thoughts and expressions I had shared with her recently during a time she was hurt, bewildered and panicking. She spoke with certainty and conviction, her voice steady and full of strength. It was a sublime compliment that she...
patricia-struntz's picture
Jul.18.2010
I’ve understood for a long time that not everything I see or hear is real. Not long ago I was reminded of this in a most unusual fashion. While peering through a window of a local art gallery late one afternoon, I noticed a striking figure seated in the driver’s seat of a car parked on the...
patricia-struntz's picture
Jul.10.2010
All of us were grappling with life issues –work, environments, relationships of one sort or another. Each of us had reached a crossroad in which we would choose new directions, discover fresh options and once again reinvent ourselves. Our spontaneity, originality and willingness to explore...
patricia-struntz's picture
Jul.04.2010
There is a tree in our town that for several years has been anonymously decorated to commemorate various occasions –this time the 4th of July. In these times of great seriousness over national dilemmas and disasters, these decorations not only offer a reminder to passersby to celebrate...
patricia-struntz's picture
Jun.26.2010
Most of us have seen depictions of Lady Justice, a female figure holding a sword in one hand and the scales of justice in the other. Portraying Justice as a female figure dates back to ancient Greek and Roman images. In Roman mythology, Justicia (Justice) was one of the four Virtues along...
patricia-struntz's picture
Jun.11.2010
I don’t remember where I got it, but I have a T-shirt that states, Your lips keep moving… but all I hear is Blah Blah Blah. Though it seems a little rude at first, it holds one of the small secrets in my stash of survival skills. It has to do with the difference between hearing (which I...
allan-james-cox's picture
Mar.03.2010
Code It seems we all have a code to live by that is ours alone. We read about and meet people who excelled by coming under the rugged tutelage of a master adult who, without knowing it, taught them to follow that code. We may get grand ideas while the code calls small and true. Who taught you?...
mary-wilkinson's picture
Feb.11.2010
I like this, this feeling of a post-dinner conversation, with the table still littered with the remains of the good meal and the dogs snoozing comfortably on the bench, glad to be in and out of the frosty night. I like my sixteen year old son telling me about his life. I like the casual nature that...
michael-l-schmicker's picture
Jan.30.2010
My mother Rayanna never graduated from high school. She lived in Arkansas as a child, on a farm, and grew up during the Great Depression of the 1930s. Maybe she ran around without shoes; I don’t know, but I suspect she did. She knew how to pick cotton and hitch a mule. She could make corn bread (...
sherrie-theriault's picture
Jan.23.2010
January 23   Frankie     “Why do I expect new leaves to grow on dead sticks?”  I pleaded to my sponsor. “Is that a ‘why do fools fall in love’, question?” she retorted. “Oh, I suppose it is.  I was doing so well having a ‘listen only’ relationship with someone then she asked why I don’t tell her my...